“Right.” He nodded firmly.
Her gaze dipped again. Shit, it was getting hard to breathe. Like his chest was full of whatever sickness she had. Why the hell couldn’t he do this right?
She turned on her side and grabbed a tissue from the side table. “Sorry, I need to blow my nose.” She blew loudly, then took a long, deep breath. “You’re right. We’re risking too much and for what? Sex?” Her shoulders shook, as though she was laughing. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad he couldn’t see her face or not. All he knew was that the pain in his chest wasn’t going away. Instead, it kept getting tighter and tighter.
The sound of an engine starting up rumbled through the room, the loud hum decreasing as the car drove away.
“I guess he’s gone,” Logan said, his eyes trained on her bare back. Her shoulders were hunched, her two wing-like blades prominent through her lustrous skin. “Maybe I should go, too. In case he comes back.”
She nodded, her hair moving up and down. “Yeah, you probably should.”
The shivers she’d thought had gone thanks to Logan’s chicken soup and hot shower returned tenfold as soon as he left her bedroom. Courtney’s body trembled beneath the blankets as she heard the front door slam shut, then a few moments later the roar of his rental car. A sob escaped from her lips, and she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound even though there was nobody there to hear it.
There was nobody here at all except for her. And there wouldn’t ever be. She was all alone. Again.
Hot tears rolled down her already-heated cheeks, pooling at her chin before dropping to the mattress. She’d been such a fool. For a moment there, she’d hoped he’d contradict her. Tell her this was more than a hook up for him. That he’d begun to fall for her the way she was falling for him. But instead he’d walked away.
She should be grateful for his honesty. She knew that. And for the fact he had enough sense to know this was going nowhere. It couldn’t. There was no way she was ready to start another relationship. No way she could tell Ellis and Mary – or Carl – that she was replacing Shaun with a suave restaurant executive who lived in Boston.
She owed them more than that. All of them.
She rolled onto her back, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand, then grabbed her phone, quickly scrolling down her contacts until she reached Lainey’s name.
Can you come over in the morning? I need your help.
She sent the message quickly. Three little dots appeared on the screen, telling her Lainey was awake and replying.
Sure. Is everything okay?
Courtney slid her fingers across the keyboard, quickly tapping out a response.
Not really. But it will be. I just really need my best friend tomorrow.
Lainey’s answer came back quickly.
You’ve got me, babe. I’ll be over first thing in the morning. I’ll bring us some pancakes. xx
Courtney blinked back the fresh tears that sprung to her eyes. It was okay. Or it would be. She’d gotten through so many worse things than this. She’d tell Lainey about it, they’d eat all the pancakes, and somehow life would go back to normal.
Without him, and the way he made her feel.
She put her phone back on the bedside table, knowing he wouldn’t message her when he arrived at the airport, nor when he got back to Boston.
The fact was, he wouldn’t be messaging her again.
Somehow, her heart would have to get used to that.
Chapter Eight
SIX WEEKS LATER.
Courtney rushed across the town square, zipping her padded jacket up and nestling her face into the silver scarf she’d wrapped around her neck. The air had turned cold in the past few days, making her cheeks turn pink and her breath opaque. It was a little over a week until Thanksgiving would be here, and the shops had already started to decorate their windows for the holidays. Red tinsel was strung across the window of Murphy’s Diner, sparkling silver bells hanging from it. On the wall outside was a poster for the Chaplin Drive-In Theater’s Holiday season, starting with It’s A Wonderful Life on the first of December.
She used to love this time of year. As a child, their Christmas countdown had always begun on the Friday after Thanksgiving, when she and her mom would pull out the three huge boxes of decorations stacked in the garage, and together they’d decide on that year’s theme. For the past two years, she hadn’t even bothered to decorate her little cottage. There didn’t seem much point when she was there alone.
She tightened her hold on her oversized purse, her mind drawn to the brown paper bag nestled inside. It had been in there unopened for two days. Ever since she’d had the gumption to drive to Maple Cross and walk into the drugstore, hoping nobody would recognize her in the town across from Hartson’s Creek.
It had been more than a month since she’d heard from Logan Hartson. To her surprise, he’d messaged her when he returned to Boston, just to check she was feeling better. She’d replied that she was much better and that had been that.
No more words. No more messages. No more frantic visits on a night where time seemed to disappear and only desire mattered. He was gone for good, and that was exactly how it should be.
Didn’t matter that it felt like she didn’t quite fit into her skin anymore. It was for the best, anybody could see that.
Or it was, until she’d missed her second period.
The first one she hadn’t noticed. It was a couple of weeks after he’d left her that night and she still wasn’t thinking properly. It had been difficult enough to put on a normal face for Ellis and Mary, and smile politely at Carl whenever he visited them for dinner.
But then she’d missed
